p l a s t i c t a s t e

1

i c a n t d o t h i s f a c e t o f a c e
i l l a d m i t t h a t i m a f r a i d

I throw the chair across the room with a scream, breaking it and smashing another lamp in the process. I look down at my bloody, bruised knuckles and let out a groan. The last of my breakdown. I look around at the damage with panic flowing through my veins. It was dark, the sun was setting and every light is either off or the bulb is smashed. Dishes, furniture, and all sorts of things were broken. Glass shards covered the floor. I was so dissapointed. I had finally relasped. Tears still blind my eyes that were once clouded with a toxic mix of rage of sadness swirling together in the most hellish way. My quivering hands are bloodied and bruised, and I can barely move my fingers. This was my first breakdown in months, and my worst one yet. All of a sudden, my now shattered phone starts flashing with notifications. I step out of my state of panic and walk to my phone.

Despite my screen being destroyed, I could read the notifications quite easily. Although I thought she had been busy all day, I have 2 missed calls and 9 messages from my dearest.  She seems concerned, so I respond quickly.

Me: Hey.

Lovely: Hey are you ok? We haven't talked all day.

Me: I'm fine, just busy.

Lovely: Do you want to call? We haven't in so long.

Me: Sure.

Almost immediately, my phone started to ring in my hand. The familiar tome was oddly soothing.

Lovely wants to FaceTime

I pick up cautiously. I don't  want her to see me like this. I set it on the table, camera facing the ceiling.

"Hey!" She exclaimed with an ecstatic smile on her face. I try to respond, and realize that I barely have a voice from all of my crying and screaming. "Hi" I whisper quietly, as anything louder would make my voice crack. "Are you ok?" She says, very concerned. "Y-yeah, just.." I respond, trying to think of an excuse. 

"Let me see you." She states. "No." "Let me see you love." Her voice became stern as her ocean blue eyes became darker in a way.

"Okay. Fine. Whatever." I said with my aching voice, trying to mimic that everything is fine.

When I pulled the phone up to my face, I was more hurt than I thought I was. "What the hell happened to you?" My hands could barely hold the phone, as they were shaky and weak. My eyes were red and swollen to the point where I couldn't close my eyes properly. My cheeks were heavily tinted with reds and pinks. My skin was very pale. Shards of glass were stuck inside my face, leaving small cuts everywhere.

l e t t h i s r o m a n c e g o t o w a s t e
e x u s e m e f o r m y p l a s t i c t a s t e

"It h-happened again." I said quietly. She immediately knew what I was taking about. We have been friends for so many years, even romantic sometimes, but since I had to move from my hometown nothing had been the same. Although we know each other well, at this point, we only know each other through a screen. It's very numbing, you know. Every moment it seems that I'm wasting my time with her. You can't be real through a screen. Everything's filtered through the Internet one way or another, and yet I always retreat to the safety of a screen. It makes me feel sorry. Sorry that 140 characters or 10 seconds isn't enough for me to express what I'm feeling. Sorry that talking until 4 am isn't the same as a hug or even spending the night. Sorry that everything I ever say to or do with her until we see each other again will have some sort of filter, a plastic taste.

I awoke from my deep thought when my dearest was trying to get my attention. "Hey. Hey!" She yelled. "Were you listening to me?" "No, I'm sorry" I continue. "Look, I'm absolutely terrified. I'm so sick of pretending I'm ok. I'm not. I'm depressed. I'm panicked. I do this for you. I stay behind this filter that is the internet just to make sure that you're happy." I was talking as loud as I could. My voice kept breaking with every other word I spoke. My eyes clouded with that same toxic mix. "Hey, I know you're at a rough patch now, so am I, but it will get better. We're healing. I know we're both been screwed since you went off, but we'll get better. Together. Everything will be okay." "But I don't know. I just don't know." I said. My voice was shaky with tears. "I'm tired of being something I'm not goddammit."

e x c u s e m e f o r m y p l a s t i c t a s t e
e x c u s e m e f o r m y p l a s t i c t a s t e

I continue to cry. The warn liquid slowly flowing down my cheeks was the only thing serene in this hell. My dearest trys to soothe me with her words, but words aren't enough. I'm wasting away.

Not realizing how tired I was, I fell asleep on the call. I awoke to the messy state of my small home. Not wanting to clean it up. I sleep for the rest of the day. After what I would say around 19 hours of sleep, where the sunny Thursday afternoon had turned to night, I receive a message from my dearest.

Lovely: Aye

Me: Hey. Sorry for falling asleep on the call.

Lovely:  It's  cool. How are you doing.

Me: I'm fine.

Lovely: Okay. I gotta go now love you.

Me: Love you too.

l e t t h e s e m o m e n t s g o t o w a s t e

I stare up from my phone and out my window into the black night sky. I begin to think. I think about yesterday. I think about my breakdown. I think about my love. I think about the filter, this plastic taste that has been with me for years now. This thing that won't let me truly express myself because of the internet's limitations. Only so much can be said with a picture and a sentence. I can't ever be myself.

I have to hide my emotion and pretend I'm ok. I'm so sick of it. I'm not okay and never will be okay. I begin to tear up again. I'm controlled by my dark thoughts. I think deeper and deeper until I can't take it.

I can't stand this plastic taste, yet it will always be with me.

g o t o w a s t e